


People Who Get It

by icandrawamoth



Series: PopoWeek [8]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Grand Prix Final, Ice Skating, Male-Female Friendship, Pre-Series, Supportive Victor Nikiforov, popoweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 00:03:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10842264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: When fifteen-year-old Mila skates in the Grand Prix Final for the first time, her rinkmates are her most enthusiastic supporters, no matter what happens.





	People Who Get It

**Author's Note:**

> A bonus PopoWeek fic for day one prompt "family & friends." I really enjoyed writing Georgi interacting with a lot of different characters this week, but it was bugging me that Victor wasn't one of them. This turned into more pre-series Russian Skate Fam, but I still like it. <3

“Ooh, Mila's up next!” Victor elbows Georgi excitedly. “Get ready!”

The other skater matches his excitement, grabbing their supplies from beneath the bench and handing half of them to Victor. The silver-haired man immediately unfolds his poster and waves it in the air. “ _Davai,_ Mila!” he shouts. “ _DAVAI!_ ”

Georgi joins in the enthusiastic chant, wildly gesticulating with his own poster. It matches Victor's, a project they'd worked hard on in secret when their third rinkmate wasn't around: the colors of the Russian flag with Mila's name in bold letters across them.

Below them, the girl is taking the ice, her glittering black costume catching the light, waves of crimson hair standing out in a striking contrast. It's unlikely she can hear them among all the shouts from all the others in attendance at the Grand Prix Final free skate, but she knows where they're sitting, and her gaze catches them for a second as she takes her starting position.

Georgi thinks he catches the flick of a smile across her face on the big screen before she gives all of her concentration to the performance. The rink goes quiet, and he and Victor do too, lowering their signs and holding their breaths as her music begins. At only fifteen, Mila has made it to the final in her first year as a senior, and Georgi is as proud as anyone. Though he hadn't qualified himself (yet again) he couldn't not come to see her perform. Even if it meant he had to deal with Victor's good-natured ribbing over how many medals he now had.

But Georgi pushes the thoughts from his mind as he watches Mila skate. She's was second place after the short program, within easy distance of first if she does well. Compared to her competition, she's almost guaranteed, Georgi thinks, to make the podium if she manages to finish without any major mistakes.

But just as he thinks it – _ah_ – she comes out of what looked like a perfect jump with one hand skimming the ice. He hadn't quite caught whether the number of rotations was right, and it sets his teeth on edge. Beside him, Victor makes a punched-out, disappointed noise, and he knows his rinkmate feels the same stress. With the men's finals over, it's just Mila Victor is pulling for, his own battle won for now.

Watching the close-up on the display screen, Georgi can see the frustration plain on her face, but he cheers inwardly even as he sees it transform into renewed determination. She completes a fantastic step sequence, launches herself into a jump combination – nails it! The music picks up speed, rushing on to it's conclusion as Mila whirls across the ice, all grace and strength and unwillingness to give up rolled into one.

With no more major mistakes, she glides through he final spin and throws her arms up in the air – finished! The crowd goes wild, Georgi and Victor joining in with hoots and hollers again, throwing up their posters much to the chagrin of those sitting behind them.

On the screen, Mila's face is pinched as she greets the audience then stoops to grab a teddy bear thrown to the ice as she skates to the kiss and cry. She knows she made a mistake, and she's always been hard on herself after a performance. And, Georgi knows, Yakov won't go easy on her just because she did well otherwise, or because it's the final.

She disappears from view. The kiss and cry is right below where they're seated, and Georgi can't see it from this angle, so he focuses hard on the display again, heart pounding as he waits for her scores. Then – the Russian part of audience seems to breathe out as one.

Mila's score is high, though not as high as any of them would have liked. She sits in third place with one skater left to go. Georgi can imagine how disappointed she feels; he's certainly felt that enough times himself, just off the edge of too many podiums, just out of reach of qualifications too many times.

“Should we wait until it's finished?” he asks as he turns, but Victor is already headed down the stands. “Hey!” Georgi chases after him, and within moments they're rinkside, Yakov and Mila just stepping away from the bench and the reporters and the cameras.

Mila's arms are crossed as she stalks a few feet behind the coach, and she falters when she sees her rinkmates approaching. “Yakov did his yelling,” she mutters. “Did you come to coddle me and tell me I did just fine?”

“Would you rather we said you were horrible?” Victor asks with a raised eyebrow.

Mila clenches her teeth and says nothing.

Georgi steps between them, pulling her into his arms. “You did your best, Milochka. Everyone makes mistakes, and this is just your first time here. Imagine what you're going to do in the future!”

She sighs loudly but lays her head on his shoulder. “Thanks.”

The the last skater, an American, is taking the ice, and they all turn to watch. Her program is flawless. Georgi can feel Mila tense next to him with each clean landing, each perfect spin. He takes her hand and squeezes it, feels her squeeze back.

“That's it, then,” Mila says somewhat numbly as the last girl leaves the ice. A minute later, her score is announced, and Mila groans. “Fourth. I didn't even make the podium.”

“But you made it here,” Victor puts in gently. “A lot of skaters never make it to the Grand Prix Final at all. Remember: placing fourth here means you're the fourth best ladies singles skater in the world.” He lays a hand on her her shoulder, smiles warmly. “Don't forget that. Even though you don't get a medal today, you earned the right to be proud of yourself.”

“Vitya is right,” Yakov says gruffly. “You're young. The season isn't over, and you will only improve from here.”

At his words – the most praise she's going to get from him right now – Mila fairly glows. “Right!” She clenches a fist in determination. “I'll be back here again next year, and next time, I'm getting a medal!”

“That's the spirit!” Georgi and Victor say together.


End file.
